Unbreakable
by Yugami
Summary: In response to a fanfiction challenge: The Gundam Wing boys are on the Titanic. Yaoi, of course. ^.^v
1. chapter 1

Unbreakable

This is an answer to a fanfic challenge by Blue Violet which I accepted. She said either write a fic with a "Grease" or "Titanic" theme and well, here is my answer. Sometimes the story is told by Quatre's P.O.V. and other times it's in the third person, so just bare with me.

This fic contains PG-16 Shonen Ai. That's right, the boys like the boys. There's swearing and the predictable morbid tradgedy factor.

* * *

Wednesday, April 10, 1912

The England harbour was never as busy as it was that day. The Titanic, setting off on it's maiden voyage, another one of Man's great triumphs over nature! And who wasn't there that day? Certainly people from the press, snapping pictures as first class passangers boarding through a grand stairway like the entry to heaven. Excited businessmen selling more than likely fake soveneirs to the wandering fancy of any customer that would buy.

But little did the passengers of the R.M.S. Titanic know, thier journey was ill-fated. A close call for some, a wonderful tale for others, and a tragic story for most. For others, a much worse fate.

* * *

The ship of dreams. It was a luxurious boat ride designed for the woo of the public, and for the wealthy to enjoy in full(without acting impressed in the least). They told us it was unsinkable, the biggest ship in the world, the ninth wonder of the world, with four steam stacks, manned by who-knows-how-many men, allowing it to go speeds reaching 23 knots. 

Rashid had filled me in on it all. It was so many things, but nobody saw it for what it truly was. It was my prison ship, tearing me away from my home. My home, the only thing I had left, and they were taking it from me! It took all of my energy not to run away in a screaming fit of sobs, going back home, where I wanted to stay until I shriveled up and died. And if I had my way, that wouldn't be long at all. 

The carriage stopped in the busy harbor, filled with people either boarding the Titanic, or watching it sail for it's historic first run. "Come, Master Quatre," Rashid said, holding the door open for me. Taking a deep breath, I jumped out of the carriage, the sea air assaulting me. I never came out to the sea. It was different, new. My wonder of the salty air was only a temporary escape from my feelings, but it was an escape nonetheless. 

"This is the first big ship I've really ever seen," I commented quietly.

"I'm surprised you saw much of the west at all, living among those Arabs."

My Aunt. Aunt Francis. I'd never met her before this week. But already I think I hate her. She was a thin old woman of 'good breeding' who seemed to be a little too fond of the eye and cheek makeup. She tended to herself as if she were a beautiful young lady. She might have been at one time, but she certainly was not now. Her skin looked like it was pulled over her face and help together in the back by the thousands of pins that also held up that mass of a wig she wore, covered partially by a blue flowered hat which matched her dress, perfetly of course. And every five seconds, she has to make some comment about my attitude, my appearance and worst of all, my culture. How in god's name did she come into my family? However it was that she did, she was apparently the only fit guardian left in my family, according to some government official. And she lived in New York. New York of all places! Can you get any further from home?

Rashid shot her a look. I don't think he liked her either. Too many rude comments about his beard. "They're almost finished boarding first class now, we ought to hurry along," he said.

"Very well," she said, stiffening up and fanning herself.

"Snob."

* * *

"You're late!" The security officer scolded the boy.

"So was the train. That was the problem."

"Hey, I don't tolerate smart-asses on my watch, you got me?"

"I understand pefectly."

"Good. Name?"

"Trowa Barton."

The captain stared at Trowa oddly for a second. "Your hair."

Trowa stared at the captain blankly. The captain only made a snorting sound and shuffled through some relatively loose papers. "You were assigned to first class security. But if they saw you, they'd be giving out less tips, and complain up the wazoo. You're third class security now."

Trowa still stood in the presence of his captain, staring with unemotional eyes, waiting for orders.

"Well, what're you waiting for? Make sure everyone's properly organized!"

"Yes, sir." Trowa saluted and left down the hall.

"Weird kid..."

* * *

My room was lavish, if there were one word to describe it. Mahogany walls and two bedrooms, when I only really needed one. I suppose one was for getting dressed in and the other for sleeping. I didn't have that many clothes or even that many belongings I could bring with me at all. Then there was the fireplace. A fireplace on a ship? Was that safe?

"Well, they certainly did take out all the stops on this ship," my aunt said, sauntering into the room, inspecting every corner of it critically. "Ah, it reminds me of my country house in Bristol."

"Yeah, whatever," I thought. I barely beleived she had the one luxurious mansion, two would be too much. I Placed a carry-on I'd been holding on a table and I went over to my room. At least there was one thing I could say I liked about being rich. Nice big comfortable beds. I wanted to collapse into it right then and there. Just cover up and stay there without talking to a soul until we reached the shores of New York. Then afterwards I would collapse into the bed in my new home and bury myself there as if it were my deathbead, just remembering my family. 

But no. Right after I'd found the opportunity for rest, my Aunt had to get me dolled up. Show her adorable, rich little nephew to all of her 'friends'. My clan of Arabs looked white enough, or else she wouldn't have bothered. The boat hadn't already left the port and already, she had to go to a party. Does this woman ever rest from socialization? Probably not.

* * *

"You look fine Master Quatre," Rashid said as I fussed about my appearance in the mirror.

"I know," I said back, "It's not the clothes. I just don't feel comfortable in my own skin."

"If it makes you feel any better, half the women out there are barely breathing. Consider yourself lucky."

I laughed for the first time in weeks. It felt kind of good, but I would rather be unhappy at that moment. Rashid saw that in me and sighed. "Come Master Quatre, it's time to go. You don't want to miss the people waving at the port."

I shrugged and went out of my room with my head hung. Of course, she was right there behind the door. "Look up boy, do you want all those people thinking you're just a third class citizen in first class clothing?"

I twitched, but kept my composure. I stoop up straight, sticking my nose in the air. Little did she know, I was mocking her. Oblivious to this, she waved her little fan again and headed down the hallway, nose in the air, using her saunter to best some imaginary competition. Rashid gave me a look like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and he agreed. 

When we came to the deck, I hung over the edge to look at all the people gathered outside the boat, waving either to a friend or family member they were going to miss. Or perhaps just waving for the sake of waving. And I'm sure there were some proud engineers and designers down there who couldn't have taken it's first time out to sea and were actually waving to the majestic boat.

"Quatre, dear, come off the edge of there," Aunt Francis insisted.

I pretended I didn't hear her and I leaned over further. To just look at all those people. They looked like ants! This might just be the biggest ship in the world...

"Quatre, do not make me raise my voice at you!" she yelled.

The thought came to me suddenly, as though it was a physical thing shoving my thoughts. What if I dived right off the edge? Just let go and I could careen straight into the docks. This insanity could be over with. One motion and that would be it.

Then I thought of all the lives I would be destroying if I did it and I did as my aunt asked and hopped off of the railing, standing as straight as I could bring myself to be. I doubt she'd be very torn, but I'm sure Rashid would miss me. Then all those people down there. They'd be horrified. I just can't do that sort of thing to other people. It made me wish I was lesser of a man.

"Do we know anybody down there?" I asked, picking up my hand and waving again.

"No, this is simply for show," she said, waving again. I rolled my eyes and kept waving. 

Then I noticed that the floor felt like it was moving underneath me. I grabbed the railing, feeling disoriented. 

"Oh, how exciting!" Francis squealed with delight. "We're sailing off!"

We were. I looked down and foot by foot, the boat came away from the docks. The ropes were strung off and the bridges were retracted. All aboard.

Close to five minutes later I still stood there in the cold England sea air, staring out at the crowd still at the docks. I watched the waves behind the ship spread out like open arms across the sea, leaving white foam in it's wake. I turned around and there it was, the open ocean. My eyes about popped out of my head. It was huge! Bigger than I'd ever imagined. It looked like the end of the world was right over the horizon and that we'd topple over the edge, right into outer space. We whizzed past little fishermen in their small fishing boats and they looked like debree. I found myself leaning over the edge again, my eyes wide and gaped at what I saw below, riding on the waves. I leaned over even further to see better. Fish. No, dolphins! I'd never seen those before, only in books.

"Qautre!" Francis yelled sternly. I rolled my eyes and jumped off of the railing, tugged frustrated at my shirt, straightening it out and marched into the first class ballroom as calmly as I could bring myself to be.

* * *

"What did you call me you prick!?"

"You're a woman is what you are!"

"A woman couldn't crush your face in like I'm about to!"

The two men charged at each other, fists colliding with each others faces, roughly flailing about like wild animals. The other passengers crowded around at the spectacle.

A few cuss words and a black eye later, a security officer came in to intervene.

"He started it!"

"I did not, that woman was making a move on my...er...woman!"

The security officer glared at both of them from under his long brunette bangs, his matching brown and deep eyes unblinking. 

"What!?" They both yelled in unison.

"Give me your passes," Trowa said, extending his hand.

The both of them handed Trowa their passes, grumbling in a like manner.

"Otto," the officer said as he handed the ticket back to it's owner. Otta was a plain Italian man, with balding curly hair and what seemed like a permenant scowl

He glanced at the others ticket. The boy was Irish and young, but only in body, and he had amazingly long honey brown hair that was in a braid down to his rear. "Duo. Thank god you aren't in the same cabin..."

"Or else, he'd die in his sleep!" Duo yelled.

"What did you say?"

The two began charging each other, until Otto found himself with a pistol to his head.

Immediately, the entire crowd had gone silent. 

"Go to your cabins and keep away from each other. And each others women. I will not have you spoiling this trip for the other passengers."

Otto only nodded in reply, his mouth gaped wide open. He did still look angry however. Trowa lowered his pistol and put it in the houlster at his hip. Otto took the waist of his wife and turned them towards their cabin and picking up his suitcase, he moved down the hall.

"Oh my god..." Duo said, barely over a whisper. "That was so cool!"

Trowa glanced over his shoulder at the grinning Irish boy.

"I mean, you just pulled your gun out and he shut up real quick!" He said, pulling out an imaginary gun and pointing it at an imaginary Otto.

The rest of the crowd rolled their eyes at Duo and began heading back to their cabins. 

"I meant that for you too," Trowa said.

Duo sighed and put away his imaginary gun, looking up to the ceiling. "Man, I was hoping for some fresh sea air!"

"You have a whole week to enjoy it. Just go into your cabin and cool off for a while."

Duo slicked his bangs back. "I am cool."

Trowa rolled his eyes and muttered something unintelligable.

Duo waved his hands in front of hisself and laughed. "Okay, okay, I'll be in there for a while, but don't expect it to be a long time."

"Fine," Trowa said as he turned and began patrolling through the hallways.

"Hey! You never told me your name!" Duo shouted after him. "Doesn't seem fair that you know mine, but I don't know yours!"

"Trowa Barton," he said indifferently. He turned the corner and dissapeared.

* * *

The first class passangers floated in and out of the luxurious rooms and through the guilded doorways and down the magestic staircases with ease and little care. It all made me a little uncomfortable. A kind person amidst a sea of terrible things, one could say. And these uncomfortable and itchy clothes didn't help either. Even though I'd been rich my entire life, I never really had to associate with rich people. I think I'd rather be living in a poor ghetto around people who don't expect things of you that aren't theirs to ask for.

My Aunt drove me around by the shoulders, which was incredibly tiring because she had to talk to absolutely everybody. But there were this particular family she seemed to be intent on showing me off to.

"Quatre, I'd like you to meet somebody," she said. Then she leaned in closely and whispered to me, "This is how a person of well-breeding is supposed to act." I only supressed a frown and followed her. 

"Mr. Dorlian!" Francis announced, striding up to a conversing politician standing in the midst of a circle. He was tall with short black hair and a mustache.

"Oh, Francis! It's been so long," he said.

"I would like you to meet somebody," she said, pulling me out. The Dorlian man leaned over to get a better eye-level conversation with me. 

"Why hello young man," he said to me, "And who might you be?"

I hestitantly walked up to him and extended my hand. "Quatre Rababera-Winner."

"Oh," he said, taking my hand and shaking it firmly. A politicians handshake. "I was very sorry to hear about your family."

I only nodded in compliance, not letting my head hang low, but averting my eyes. If he'd known the details, he wouldn't have even mentioned it...

Taking his hand away he said: "I'd like you to meet my daughter." He stepped aside and his daughter stood there in a blue dress, rather simple compared to what most people were wearing, but lavish nonethless. 

She dipped in a curtsie quickly and bowed her head. "My name is Relena Dorlian," she said with a smile.

I bowed politely. "Nice to meet you Relena."

She quickly looked to her father and again to me. "It is very nice to meet you," she said with a glare I found suspicous, sipping her drink from her gloved hand without taking her eyes off me.

* * *


	2. chapter 2

Unbreakable

* * *

Duo laughed uproariosly, throwing a ball up in the air, tossing it to his friends.. 

"You sure showed him, didn't you Duo?" his friend laughed.

"Hey, just because I didn't get to finish pummeling him, you think it wasn't true?"

"He has a point," said another of his friends. "If Duo were making this up, he would have killed the guy."

Duo shrugged. "Or maybe I'm lying and he's dead right now, and I don't want you arses to know about it and snitch!"

They all shared a moment of laughter and a few more jokes before Duo punched one of them in the shoulder to get his attention. "Look, that's him."

The other boys looked up to see Trowa Barton walking the rim of the third class deck. His hair fell over his dark eyes and he seemed to be staring out into the ocean, but at the same time keeping an eagle eye watch on everyone on deck.

"He's a frightening looking bloke, ain't he?" commented one friend.

"All I'm saying is I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alleyway," Duo commented, clutching his cross and holding it out.

* * *

Nightfall

* * *

"...And I told her, 'Darling, that isn't becoming of you in the least'!"

The table roared in laughter, tipping their wine glasses at each other, sharing the laughter. 

I stared down at my plate of food, the steam begining to dissapear as I let it cool. I didn't feel like eating at all. But my stomach felt empty. I felt so empty, it hurt. I looked at the people around me. Happy, smiling people. I didn't belong here, even if the smiles were fake. I made my decision right then. I really didn't belong there. I had to leave. Leave now.

I let myself be excused, denying the company of Rashid and composing myself as well as I could bring myself to be. I walked out, tipping my head kindly to the company my aunt had introduced me to and trying to look like I was just walking out to go somewhere, anywhere but where I was thinking of goin. I barely made it up the stairs without breaking down, surrendering to my emotions. Until I reached a part of the ship where the passangers were scarce.

At first I found myself sniffling and walking a little fast. But as I picked up the pace, so did my tears. I found myself running, the tears flowing like salty rivers. I became blind, but my mind knew exactly where I wanted to go. My legs pumped away faster than I thought they would go, and three decks later, there I was. I ran into the railing, my body slamming up against it, my mind not quite registering that I had gotten there. I looked down at the choppy waters below. There it was, my salvation. It was like my body wasn't there anymore, I just picked up my feet and swung my legs over the edge. So easy. Leaning out a little more, I barely hung onto the edge with my fingertips.

"Stop!"

My barely loose fingertips suddenly gripped onto the railing with white knuckles, the voice coming out of nowhere on the empty deck.

"I'm going to do it. Just let me die!" I screamed, tasting my tears in my mouth.

"Don't be foolish," said the voice, trying to calm me down.

I paused, and the sound of the voice grounded me, letting a little bit of reality sink into me. I just noticed how far the water was from where I was.

I could hear his footsteps coming closer to me. "Please, don't come any closer," I said, shaking from the cold, but mostly fear.

"I can't just do that," The low voice said. I heard the sound of something hitting the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Getting ready for if you jump," the voice said. It was so calm, it was unnerving. "It'll help not to have excess weight on after I jump in after you."

His words struck me like a hammer. Jump in after me? He'd die! And he doesn't even know me. "No, you wouldn't. You can't!"

"You won't be able to stop me," the voice said, tossing something heavy across the deck floor that clanged on the railing when it hit. I slowly turned my head to see what it was. His pistol. I turned away quickly, memories invading my thoughts.

"You won't jump," I said, quivering, saying so more for me than for him.

"I'm afraid I will," he said, coming closer to me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to make the reality go away so I could just do it. "You don't know me. You don't know what I'm going through."

"I might," the voice said. "Give me a chance before throwing your life away."

I shook my head furiously, trying not to listen to him. For a moment, all I heard were his soft, almost silent footsteps, stalking towards me.

I could feel his presence right at my back, his steamy breath blowing by my face. "It's really cold down there," he said.

"So?" I snapped. "...How cold?"

"You sure you want to know?" he asked.

I stayed silent, hoping he wouldn't tell me.

"Basically, when you hit it, it feels like your skin's been shredded."

"Shredded?" I repeated, wide-eyed, terrified at the thought.

"Yeah, it'll be slow too. Freezing to death isn't pretty. And drowning is only marginally better."

I gripped at my chest in terror, thinking about what it would be like to die like that.

"Come on back over," he said, extending his hand out so I could see it. "It's probably warmer in first class."

Something about that last commend made me grind my teeth together. I was just a first class citizen to this guy. I wasn't a person, I was a job responsibility. I let him know it. 

"You're just doing this because it's your job."

"You think maybe it's my job because I don't like seeing other people get hurt?"

I hadn't expected that. It took an edge away from my anger, from my despair.

I slowly considered the options I had. For one, I could jump into the freezing water and I'd be dead in no time like I wanted. But then again, I didn't really know how long it would take me to die, and no matter how short it was, I knew it would be painful. "Shredded." I shuddered. 

My shaky hand reached out and folded itself into his. I was surprised to find they were rough and callused, even though they loked soft and almost delicate. He put his hand on my waist to keep me from falling, guiding me across with the other hand. Breathing raggedly, I lifted my leg over the railing and set it on the other side, followed by the other. The one thing going through my mind was how stupid I must look, a fair first class boy, crying as he was talked out of something. I just tried to push that thought out of my mind and hopped off the rail, back onto the deck. Standing in front of the body that voice belonged too, the first thing I noticed was that he was taller than I was. I only came up to his chest. I looked up and I was immediately grasped by those dark eyes that peered out through his long brown bangs. It was like they were as deep as the sea itself, but I completely dismissed the thought that he was as dangerous. Held in his arms, I felt comforted and safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

"Are you alright?" he asked me.

I felt my face flush. "Uh...Yeah. I'm..." I knew that wasn't true. I gritted my teeth and looked at the floor, the tears beginning to flow again. The fact was that I felt stupid, irresponsible and worst of all, spoiled. "I'm fine. I..."

"Shh... it's okay," he said, bending over to meet me at eye-level. "But I need you to tell me your name first."

"Qua...Quatre," I said, voice shakey. He stared at me for a while and then I realized that he wanted my whole name. "Quatre Rababera-Winner."

He nodded. "Let's get you back to your parents," he said. He began to stand up, but I tugged on his sleeve and he bent back over. "What is it?"

I shook my head and wiped away the tears on my face with my sleeve. "I don't have any parents," I said.

"Then who takes care of you?"

"My Aunt Francis. I don't want to see her right now."

He rubbed his hand effectionatley through my hair. "Well, I have to hand you over to her. I'm afraid I can't keep you."

"I just don't want to go back to them," I said, motioning to first class.

He smiled very slightly. "You do seem too kind to be a first class passenger," he said. I smiled and laughed, wiping more tears from my face. 

He stood up and let go of my hand. He walked back over to the railing and picked up his gun, holstering it and then walking back over to where his jacket was. 

"You were really going to jump in after me?" I asked.

He slipped on his jacket, buttoning it up before answering me. The pause before his answer unnerved me and I began twisting the cloth of my jacket in my hand.

"Yes, I was," he said straighforoward. I stared up at him wide-eyed, amazed anyone would do that for me. My heart swelled and I felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest.

"Th...Thank you... Um. What is your name?"

He paused again. "Trowa Barton."

I smiled brightly and held my hand over my chest, lest it pop out. "Trowa. Thank you."

* * *

Above Trowa and Quatre, a figure stood at the balcony of the first class deck, sipping from a wine glass little by little. The old woman sneered at the golden haired boy that was her nephew, dissapointed that the young securtiy officer with unruly hair had convinced him to get off the end of the boat.

"Pity," Francis said to herself. "Now I have to do all the work myself."

The two figures began walking back towards the stairs and she took another sip of her wine before heading back to her room, alone.

* * *

Trowa stared at the gaping figure in the room, to the cabin number and then to his ticket. "God must be punishing me..."

"You're one of my cabin-mates?!" Duo exclaimed.

"Good god," one of Duo's friends exclaimed. "What a small world."

Trowa didn't give a reaction, but tossed his one small bag on the empty bunk below Duo's.

"Hey, nobody said you could sleep there!" Duo yelled.

"Where else will I sleep?" Trowa asked, glaring up at Duo who hung over the side of his top bunk.

Duo sneered and rolled over on his back. "Augh! This is just great! You're gonna keep me up aaaall night, telling me not to do this and that, just because you're a security officer!" Duo rolled back over, hanging off of the edge, "You know you..."

Duo raised a brow at his bunkmate when he found Trowa had already pulled his hat over his face and drifted off to sleep.

"Weird guy."

"I heard that."

* * *

Thursday, April 12, 1912

I sipped at my juice to keep my aunt happy, but I still wouldn't touch my food. Drinking the juice constantly kept her off the idea that I wasn't eating. Besides, she wasn't the most observant of people. She barely likes to look at me. I took in a deep breath an stared down at my plate. Yesterday I wouldn't eat because I already felt dead and I was one step away from finishing the job. But now...

"Darling, if you don't eat your food, you'll starve," Francis said, eating a little bit of sausage herself. "And you don't want to go looking like a street urchin, do you?"

I sighed heavily and pushed my food around with my fork. 

"Don't do that!" She screamed at me, of course it was in the most ladylike voice she could conjure. "You are not an animal."

"Yeah," I said, before 'properly' eating my breakfast. My thoughts wandered again to the boy who saved me the night before. Trowa. I hadn't seen him at all yesterday. Was he just some phantom? Trowa. His name rang through my head like an echo in a canyon. It was those eyes. I'd never seen eyes like that before in my life. And the way he looked at me, it was like he could see right into me. The real me.

"Quatre, please put your food in your mouth, don't just let it hand on your fork for half an hour," Francis said.

I blinked out of the place I was in, and blushing, started eating again.

* * *

Relena Dorlian sat in front of her dresser, combing her hair with the fine-bristled brush, staring at herself in the mirror. She put the brush down and sat up straight. Holding out her hand, she asked the mirror: "Would you care to dance with me tonight Quatre? Oh no, the pleasure is all mine." Standing, she curtsied in front of her reflection, and looping her hand over the arm of an imaginary Quatre, she began spinning throughout the room, waltzing to music that was only in her head.

"My Quatre, you dance marvelously," she complimented with her best smile.

Suddenly, she stopped, taking her hand from her imaginary dancing partner. "Quatre, what are you saying?"

She followed an invisible Quatre as he got down on his knees.

"Marriage?" She exclaimed with bright eyes. "Why Quatre. I don't know what to say," she said, covering up her flushing cheeks. "Yes. My answer is yes. Oh, you've made me so happy."

She began to giggle girlishly. Then, her voice changed. The little giggle became insane laughter. "Love? Love dear boy? Love has nothing to do with marriage. It's a business acquisition. And I plan on being the inheiritant of your fortune." She pointed an imaginary pistol at the imaginary head of her fake love. "Darling..."

She pulled her arm back, simulating her imaginary husbands death and began laughing again. This time, it was a girlish giggle, and only trained ears could tell the difference between the innocent one of a small girl, and this sinister one compared only to that of a vampire.

* * *


	3. chapter 3

Unbreakable

* * *

Thursday, April 13, 1912: Noon

* * *

Aunt Francis had decided I should wear something different than what I was wearing that morning. I had to trade in a brown suit that fit me well and I was very fond of, for a dark blue ensamble. She said it suited me better, and it would make a better impression on the rest of the first-class passengers. I just thought it made me look like a pansy ... again.

"Now Quatre dear, we've been invited to have lunch with Treize Kushrenada and his wife, Lady Une. I do not want you to run out in the middle of lunch like you did dinner a few nights ago."

I nodded solemnly, putting my arms through the sleeves of the jacket, like it hurt to put it on. To be honest, it did a little. But the fact remained that I was just tired. Tired because of a restless night of strange dreams, but mostly just tired of waking up to these rules of social conduct; what to wear, say, do, act and be.

"Is the coat too tight Master Quatre?" Rashid asked, smoothing the jacket out at the shoulders.

"No Rashid, it's fine," I said, tugging at the front of my jacket.

My aunt rolled her eyes. "I have no idea why you converse with your servents," she said with a sigh.

I don't know why I said what I said next. I just had to say something. Keeping quiet was my silent torture that only I knew and I couln't take it any longer.

"Unlike you, I'm kind enough to make friends with people I actually like, instead of people who can get me places," I said.

Both my aunt and Rashid stared at me in astonishment. Even though I was surprised at myself, I didn't let it show. I'd kept quiet for too long. It was about time I told her what I thought.

"Why you insubordinate little..."

I turned to her and opened my mouth, hoping to get another few words across. But instead I saw her hand blur through the air and my cheeks stung. Without thought of it, my feet stumbled over each other and I fell backwards. Instinctively, my hand shot up to where she had slapped me. For a moment, the room was still and silent. I had no idea how to react.

"Madam!" Rashid shouted as he caught me, pulling my still stumbling self back up on my feet, "how dare you."

"Ha! I'd like to see you do something about it," she said, fanning herself again.

Rashid took a step foroward, but I grabbed his arm. "Rashid. Don't. It's not necessary."

"But, Master Quatre..."

"Just don't," I pleaded, trying to hold back the tears. Seeing this, Rashid only put a comforting hand on my shoulder and nodded.

My aunt rolled her eyes. "Can we go please?"

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Treize!" My aunt said, elegantly extending her arms.

"Mrs. Winner, how lovely to see you," Treize said, accepted the petite hug from the old woman. "I'm so glad you could make it to lunch."

"I can always make time for you, sir," she said with a large smile.

"Now, who is this young boy I see standing beside you?"

She turned to me and shot me a deadly look that made me wince, but only I could see it. With a smiling face, she brought me up to him. "This is my nephew, Quatre."

"Oh. Nice to meet you Quatre," Treize said with a slight nod of his head. He had the dignity not to shake my hand, lean over to meet my eyes and talk to me like a child, like practically everyone else had. I nodded as well. "Nice to meet you as well Treize."

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," Treize said, giving his attention back to Francis. "I invited the Dorlians to have lunch with us as well."

"Mind? Why not at all!" She said, with exstatic joy barely contained in her voice.

That's when I locked eyes with Relena, who was already seated at the table next to her father. I shifted uncomfortably where I stood. I didn't like that look she gave me. I wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what it was that unnerved me, but I knew I didn't like it. And she kept staring at me. I looked down to keep from embarassing myself if somebody caught me staring at the young politician's daughter.

"Please, please, have a seat," Treize asked, motioning to the table. After Treize and his wife were seated, there were two chairs left and Francis took the one by the Lady Une.

"Oh No."

I took my seat next to Relena and kept myself as still as possible, trying to look foroward, or at the other adults, anything to keep from looking at that crazy girl's eyes.

Nonetheless, Relena leaned over and whispered to me: "Quatre, it's good to see you again. I didn't see much of you yesterday."

I only nodded, trying not to look at her.

"My Quatre, is there something wrong with me?" she asked. "You've been so careful not to look at me."

After a moment, I looked up at her. She was still staring at me that way. She was scary. "Nothings...wrong." I then again turned away, looking down at my empty plate. I looked up to see Treize calling his personal servant to him. 

"Wufei," Treize called. A young asian boy approached the table. He was dressed in black, his likewise black hair slicked back into a small ponytail. 

"Yes?" Wufei exclaimed.

"Bring the menu's of everyone but our new guests back to the kitchen," Treize said, handing his menu to Wufei. Wufei bowed slightly, shutting his eyes and whispering something into Treize's ears quickly. I doubt anybody noticed this small exchange of words, but since I was trying to look at anything but Relena, I saw it. Wufei then went around taking the menu's from everyone, then dissapearing into the kitchen.

Treize folded his hands together and leaned over his plate. "So, Master Quatre?" he said.

"huh?" I said smally.

"I am interested to know, what you think of this masterpeice of a boat."

I paused for a moment before coming up with a reply. "Well, it is very interesting that it holds so many passengers but... Oh, nevermind."

"Oh no, continue. We're on the boat, we might as well discuss her."

I nodded. "Well. You have noticed that there actually aren't that many life boats?"

The Dorlian man chuckled. "Why there's no need for it son. This ship is unsinkable."

I blushed. "Oh yeah, that's right," I said. "But then again, it's still made out of steel..."

"Oh, my nephew, what does a boy like yourself know about the science going into the making of an unsinkable ship," my aunt laughed, opening her menu.

I looked down at my lap for a moment to collect myself, then sat up straight again.

Treize only laughed, but not at me. "It's fine. He's a boy. Let him have his thoughts. At least he observed the mistake of having only enough lifeboats for half the people on the ship. That's impressive."

"Thank you," I said with a nod, opening up my menu to keep from having to talk to anyone anymore.

Wufei came back and took mine and my aunts orders, bringing them to the chef. 

"You'd better actually eat this time, Quatre," my aunt said in a whispered aside, wearing a fake smile on her face. "People will think I'm starving you to death."

I sighed and placing my elbows on the table and my cheeks in my hands, I looked upwards at the ceiling. Suddenly, my thoughts turned towards my dreams the night before:

* * *

I stood alone in a dark space. My shadow was white, the only light in the vast darkness. 

"Hello?" I screamed out, my voice echoing. "Is anyone there?"

I began wandering the blank space for an unmeasurable amount of time before I spotted something. A figure far in the distance, but still visable.

"Hello?"

My words echoed back, in what was not my own voice. Curiously, I began walking towards the figure. Then I began to run-walk. Then I was running at breakneck speed, my hear pounding through me as though I were something wild. The figure was closer and closer and I wanted to know so badly who it was, but I knew in my heart who it must be.

My running slowed to a walk as the figure began to move. It walked towards me, his feet clicking on the ground. Soon I was able to make out those deep eyes underneath those unruly brown bangs. I stopped altogether, letting him walk to me.

"Do you know who I really am?" Trowa asked.

"No," I responded.

"Do you know if I'm real?" Trowa asked.

"No," I responded.

"Then why am I in your dreams? Someone like you should forget someone like me."

"I can't bring myself to do that."

"You're too kind."

"Perhaps."

"No one understands the tears of kind people."

I gasped and stepped back as he repeated the words I had said that day...

* * *

My aunt nudged me, snapping me out of the trance I was in. Confused, I stared at her, but then I noticed there was a waiter standing above me with a plate of food. My plate of food.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, sitting properly in my chair and putting my hands in my lap, allowing the waiter to put the plate down in front of me.

Relena giggled beside me. I didn't like that either. She sounded like a child-like monster. I turned to her and she batted her eyes at me. Oh god. She was flirting. I turned to my food with a blush.

After everyone had finished their meals, Treize suggested we all take a stroll along the boat. The Dorlian family declined, having previous arrangements. Thank god. No more Relena.

The tour of the boat took forever. It was well into sunset before our stroll around the Titanic was ended. We'd talked to the captain and first mate and even the engineers and designers of the boat. They all had interesting things to say, but I was too busy trying to keep my mind off of Trowa and pay attention that I ended up not paying attention anyway. I shivered in the cold evening air. I was so chilly, but I didn't want to be a bother, so I kept it to myself, pulling my coat around me as tightly as I could.

It was time for us to depart to our individual cabins. Waiting for Francis to say goodbye to Treize, I leaned over the edge and stared down at third class deck. My mind wandered to two nights before, when my life was flashing before my eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for if you jump. It'll help not to have excess weight on after I jump in after you."

I sighed and leaned over the railing. He was third class security, it made sense that I hadn't seen him since that night when I was on third class. But I still felt a longing, like he was right there, but I couldn't see him.

"What are you staring at?" Came an inquisitive voice.

I looked over my shoulder at Wufei. I hadn't noticed Wufei's had such a strong accent. It was nice, different.

"Nothing," I said, turning back around and looking over the edge.

"Well, Master Treize wanted me to tell you that if you are having any problems with your aunt, you're welcome to come to him for help."

The offer sounded strange and my ears perked up. I stood up straight and turned to the young chinese boy.

"She's not exactly known as one of the kindest people in the world," he commented.

"Wufei!" Treize called, having Lady Une's arm in his and already walking back to his room.

"Goodbye," Wufei said with a bow. "Don't forget Master Treize's offer." He then turned and quickly walked away, joining his Master and Mistress.

I stared at them for a while, wondering what made them want to so eagerly help me. Once they were out of eyesight, I turned again to the railing, looking out the back of the boat...

There he was. Staring straight at me. "Tro...!" I started without knowing it. Wide-eyed, I covered my mouth to keep myself from screaming out his name in full. For a moment, I'd forgotten how to breathe. I just stared down at him, staring up at me. Closing his eyes, Trowa bowed his head. Taking my hands away from my mouth, I clutched at my chest. He looked like some phantom ghost, haunting me, something wanted but untouchable. The golden sunset illuminating the deck made him glow at if he were something out of heaven.

A cold hand clamped down on my shoulder. Surprised, I turned around to see my aunt glaring down at me. "Time to go," she said.

"But, I..."

She clamped her sharp fingernails around my ear. I winced in pain before she began tugging me away. "Ah! That hurts!"

"That's the point," she said.

"What did I do?"

She let go of my ear. "Follow me," she demanded.

Frustrated, I held back my anger and did as she asked.

* * *

"Do you know that guy?" Duo asked, coming out of the underneath of the deck where he cold see the young blonde boy, but the blonde couldn't see him.

"Ah." Trowa said, confirming Duo's query.

"Hmmm," Duo said, stroking his chin as if he had a beard. "How do you know him? He's first class."

Trowa glared at Duo.

"Okay, fine," Duo said, holding his arms up defensively. "I won't ask." Duo took out a cigarette from his pocket and a lighter from inside his coat. "That old bag of bones didn't seem too kind to him," Duo commented after lighting up.

Trowa only turned his head, and with his deep green eyes, he stared out into the sunset. Duo stared at him, only guessing at what Trowa could be thinking.

"Well, while you're being the strong silent type, I'm going downstairs for a party," Duo said, turning, his braid tossing in the ocean wind behind him. "If I seem drunk when I come back, it's because I am!" Duo howled and clutched his stomach as he exited in laughter.

Paying no mind to Duo, Trowa put his hand on the railing on the back of the boat.

"Where were you going to, little one?" he asked the open air, almost as if expecting the wind to whisper something back to him. Being answered by only silence, he let his hand slowly fall off of the railing, and clutching his hands at his back, he began circling the deck again, his ever-watchful eye staring off into the sunset.

* * *

Leaning over the sink, I took a wet washcloth and dabbed the spot of blood where her nails had peirced the skin. I hissed as the soap got into the wound. "Just let it do it's job," I thought to myself as the wound really began to sting.

"Don't be such a baby," my aunt said, standing in the doorway.

I muttered something under my breath.

"Excuse me, what was that?" She said in anger.

"I said I'm not a baby!" I growled, wiping the back of my ear where I was still bleeding.

She 'hmphed' and walked into the bathroom. Her spindly hand reached out to grab her brush and I thought nothing of it. But before I could think about what was happening, her metal brush collided with my nose. I lost my footing and fell onto my back. I yelled out and clutching my nose, muttered obscenities I knew I wasn't suppose to say.

"You insolent little brat!" she screamed.

I managed to sit up and I backed into the corner between the door and the back wall, still clutching my face. I had no idea she could hit that hard.

"I've taken you in and this is how you thank me?" she continued.

I could feel the rage swelling up inside me like a boiling cauldron, and my eyes burned as they swelled up with tears.

"You bratty little sand-bag! You smell just like the camels you were raised with!"

I clenched my eyes shut, and pulled my knees up to my chest. "stop..." I whispered, but I knew she couldn't hear me. Where was Rashid?

"You are going to learn some manners!" she screamed. I heard her exit the room but I was too shocked to move. I wasn't sure this was really happening or if this was another nightmare. I just sat there, shaking, with my face buried in my arms as I heard her footsteps scurry from one room to another. I heard her footsteps come back into the room and there was a pause. I looked up and she had in her hand a poker from the fireplace. She pulled it back and swung down at me. I moved my head aside but it wasn't enough. I screamed out in pain as the heavy metal smashed into my shoulder. I collapsed, clutching my shoulder lightly. I touched it, but it hurt so bad I could only let my hand hover over it for a while.

"Let that be a lesson to you," she said before exiting.

I heard the sound of the poker being thrown onto the ground, then her footsteps hurrying from one place to another. Then the sound of the door opening and slamming shut. I curled up into protective ball. I didn't want any of my other nightmares coming to life. I let myself be reduced to a pitiful pool of sobs, my heart being torn out with every tear. I could hear my pitiful moans, echoing off of the tile on the walls and floor, which made me feel even more agony.

I don't think I'd ever felt so alone than when I did at that moment. I wanted somebody there with me, I wanted some comfort from this hell.

"Trowa."

* * *

"Trowa."

Trowa's one visible eye grew wide with surprise as his name rung through his ears. He quickly turned but found there was nobody there that could have called out to him. Especially the person he knew the voice belonged to. He could have sworn he'd heard Quatre's voice crying out to him. He clutched his chest. The momentary twinge in his chest had passed, but he still felt the after-effects of it. A moment ago, he felt like crying. Now there was this shaky feeling in his hands.

"What's happening to me?" he thought, staring down at his shaky hand in disbeleif.


	4. chapter 4

Unbreakable

* * *

"What the hell am I doing here?"

Trowa stood in front of the large mahogany doorway with his master-key in hand, ready to open the lock. He barely had any recollection of how he had gotten there, he was just following this instinct the logical part of his brain kept telling him to ignore. With a determined sneer he turned away from the door, grumbling to himself about how he shouldn't be there and how foolish he'd been.

Then came the noise. He wasn't sure if he'd heard it or not, but this time it definitely wasn't inside his head. Trying to brush it off, he took another few steps, but he still heard it. Rolling his eyes, Trowa swore at himself and rushed back to the heavy door. Unlocking it, he stepped inside. The room was quiet, but he could still hear an almost pathetic little sound coming from around the corner. Shutting the door behind him, he stepped further into the room, surveying the lush surroundings from underneath his long bangs. The little sound became fainter, even though Trowa could sense he was getting closer.

Then, he spotted a little twinge of movement. Peering closer he saw a shaking hand covered inblood just behind the door. Calmly, Trowa eased around the door, hand on his pistol, just in case. Moving the bathroom door aside, he spotted the little blonde boy from two nights ago and again this afternoon. 

"Quatre?" he called out questonitively.

The boys eyes opened up a tiny bit, blue barely visible behind star-studded tear drops overflowing from his eyes. His eyes upturned and he could possibly be smiling, but it was hard to tell because he was shielding his face with one shaking hand.

"Trowa," Quatre whispered, his voice muffled.

Trowa got down onto his knees next to the broken boy on the ground and hushed him, reaching over to remove his hand from his face. Wincing, Quatre allowed his hand to be pulled away from his face.

"She hit me," was all Quatre could manage. But he was regaining his composure.

Trowa got up from the floor and walked to the sink where he wet a washcloth and, after draining it of excess liquids, brought it over to Quatre. Gently, he wiped up the trail of blood from his nose to his cheek, where it then dripped into a very small puddle on the ground. Quatre winced as he wiped the blood from around the nose.

"Does it hurt?"

"It burns."

Trowa sighed. "You must have been crying for a very long time."

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut trying the trap the tears that escaped anyway. Trowa stroked his golden hair, trying to comfort the boy in any way he could.

After he'd cleaned Quatre's face of blood, he turned his attention to his shoulder that Quatre was delicately cradling. Noticing Trowa's attention was on that, Quatre spoke: "She hit me with a poker."

"With what?"

Squeezing back more tears behind closed eyes he said: "With a poker."

A sneer of hatred escaped Trowa's lips for a moment, but it dissapear to something neutral again then he turned back to Quatre's injured shoulder. He could tell already that something was swelling under his coat. Trowa began unbuttoning Quatre's shirt that was too tight for him anyway, peeling away the layers of clothing, being mindful of the hurt shoulder. It didn't matter much since Quatre winced anyway. Peeling away the vest underneath the jacket, he could see his shoulder was very red underneath the almost sheer white undershirt.

"Is it...?"

Trowa nodded. "Probably."

Quatre squeaked again, a little tear falling down his cheek.

Trowa's ears perked up as he heard the door open and shut ever so slowly. His back tensed up as he reached for his gun. But before he could pull it all the way out of it's holster he felt the cold steel of a pistol already aimed at his head.

"Stand up," the old woman's voice barked.

Steadily, Trowa stood, showing no signs of fear, even when a pistol was aimed straight at his head.

"Toss me your gun," she demanded.

Trowa pulled the gun out slowly and held it's handle out. Francis grabbed the gun and swiftly tossed it to the other side of the room. The steel pistol clanked around inside the bathtub before stopping. Placing both hands on the gun, she held it steady at Trowa's head. "Get up Quatre."

Quatre forced himself up onto his haunches, leaning up against the wall on his one good shoulder, still cradling the other. Painfully slow, he pushed himself up to stand somewhat vertical.

"Do you always have to do everything so goddamn slow? Get over here!"

Quatre cautiously stepped forward, hunched backwards, afraid she might strike at him again. Quatre's bright blue eyes pleadingly stared into Trowa's deep green one, trying to find some comfort in some sort of protector. Trowa only stared blankly back at Quatre. But Quatre knew he was busy at work, thinking of how they were going to get out of this...he had to be.

Francis stepped out of the doorway. "Move," she said, motioning to the door with her gun. Trowa stepped out of the way and Quatre went out first, Trowa following closely behind. Trowa could feel the vibrations of fear coming out from Quatre and he wanted to reach out to him, but at this time, he couldn't.

"Over there, on the couch," she ordered. Trowa helped Quatre down, being mindful of his arm and then seated himself next to Quatre.

"You know, you wouldn't have been dragged into this if you'd have just let him jump. Now look. I have to do all this work. And you have to have your life ruined."

"why..." Quatre said with his head down, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

"Why?" Francis repeated. She laughed, a horrible cackling sound. "My dear boy, the money! With you gone, my husband and I will be the inheritors of the Winner family fortune! I'm surprised you didn't know that."

"How cliche," Trowa commented in a monotone voice.

"Shut up," Francis said with a snarl. "You think because I'm a woman, I don't know how to use this?"

"I don't doubt you know how to use it," Trowa said, "But you're cowardly enough to use it on children..."

Francis curled her upper lip in a snarl. "Yeah, you aren't much older than my nephew here, right?"

"Fifteen," Trowa stated.

"Just a child." She cackled again. "Oh well, the world will be free two pitiful children."

"Stop this!" Quatre yelled out, more tears falling down the side of his face. "You're my aunt!"

"So?" she said coldly. Quatre stared at her in disbelief before being roughly hit on the head by the handle of the pistol and spilling over onto the floor. Trowa barely had time enough to react before he felt something hit him and the world went black

When Trowa came to, he was in the same place he had been before, the couch. Francis was standing there with a pistol pointed to him, and Quatre was nowhere to be seen. Trowa glared at her from underneath his bangs wishing he could do something, but she still had the advantage, pointing the gun straight at Trowa's head. Keeping her eyes and her gun on Trowa she smiled a wicked smile.

"Stand up," she ordered.

He did.

"Take off your jacket."

Trowa wordlessly stripped off his jacket, throwing it at her feet.

"The hat!"

Trowa tossed his hat off and that too was thrown down to the floor.

Scooping them off of the ground, she stuffed the jacket and the hat into a dresser drawer. She stared at Trowa and smiled. Pacing back to the door, she opened it, only a crack. "Now comes my award-winning acting."

Without warning, she screamed at the top of her lungs, making Trowa jump back and wince.

"Help! Help me, please!" she kept repeating. After hearing hurried footsteps running down the hall toward the room, she forced out the waterworks and tossed the gun roughly at Trowa, who instinctually caught it...unfortunately by the handle.

Almost the instant afterwards, three security guards rushed in the door. Francis practically leaped into the arms of the first one of them, sobbing hysterically in his chest. The other two automatically pulled out their pistols and pointed them straight at me. "Drop the gun!" They screamed.

"Oh, Crap."

* * *

His wrists bound in handcuffs, security drug Trowa out of the room and down the several flights of stairs, into third class, where they held all 'trouble-makers'.

Duo caught sight of the roughly handled Trowa and immediately started asking questions.

"Hey! Where are you going with Trowa?" he asked, trying to get a better look at Trowa, who was surrounded by guards.

"Get back in yer cabin," one of the guards yelled.

"What did he do?" Duo insisted on asking.

"None of yer business, now get back!"

"No!" Duo said, setting his hands on his hips and leaning into the security guard. "I want to know, he's my goddamn cabin-mate!"

Another security guard came up and tapped the other on the shoulder. "You help them. I'll take care of this."

The guard nodded and rushed back to the circle of men taking Trowa away. "Now, what seems to be the problem," this new officer asked.

"The problem is that he's my cabin-mate and I'd like to know what's going on."

"Oh. Well, he was found in a first-class passengers room with a pistol. Apparently, he'd already finished off a young boy."

"What!?" Duo screamed. "No way! I don't know Trowa very well, but he'd never do that! I think."

"Well, he was found with the pistol..."

"What about the boy?"

"Well, we never found him. Apparently, he was thrown over the edge..."

"No way, I don't believe it," Duo said stubbornly. "It's just not possible."

"Please, retire to your quarters, we already have our hands full."

Duo let out a frustrated breath and burrowed his brow. "Fine," he said, stepping back inside and closing the door. "Don't expect me to give up though..." 

* * *

"Yes, I'll be fine. Thank you," Francis said, still acting her heart out.

"We'll be sure to keep an eye out for Rashid ma'am. You can count on us."

"Yes. Thank you again," she said, wiping a tear from her eye before closing the door.

As soon as she did that, her expression changed to one of exhaustion. Rolling her eyes she circled around the cabin, mumbling to herself. 

"I shouldn't have to go through all that for money, that's supposed to be the husbands job..."

In the closet, Quatre stirred and his eyes flickered open. Feeling disoriented, he wasn't able to sort out where he was. Things became clearer as Francis opened the closet, the sudden bursts of light stinging Quatre's sore eyes. Wide-eyed, he tried to scream, but it was muffled as his aunt shoved something large down into his mouth. Quatre almost got ill, but it wasn't deep enough for that. He just coughed, choking and his cheeks now hurt from the gag placed in his mouth. Quatre tried reaching up to tear it out of his mouth, but before he had the chance, Francis shoved him onto his stomach, violently pulling his arms back, his shattered shoulder making a sickening cracking sound. Quatre screamed as loudly as he could through the gag, breathing heavily to choke back the tears. He felt the tight, thick rope being wrapped tightly around his wrist, then she traced the rope tightly down to bind his feet. Roughly, she picked the boy up by the collar of his shirt, sitting him up in the corner. Quatre screamed again as his shoulder was roughly handled.

"Sit tight now. And don't even think about trying to get help. I won't be gone often. I'll be too busy mourning the loss of my nephew." She chuckled, a twisted smile playing across her face. "So, don't even bother trying."

Stepping back, she slammed the door shut, leaving Quatre alone in the dark space. Not wasting any time, Quatre tried to force the gag out of his mouth with his tongue, but it was so far back that forcing it out wouldn't help. And he couldn't even begin to loosen the tight knots that bound his hands, but he struggled nonetheless, trying to wiggle his hands out of the loops. The throbbing pain in his shoulder now worsened from his aunt's rough treatment.

Without any type of reason, Quatre's thoughts turned back to Trowa. "What happened to him after I blacked out?" Quatre squeezed back tears at the thought that he could be...

"Shut up," he thought to himself, "You have to get to him, dead or alive."

He pushed on the gag with his tongue again. That was a bad idea as he barely repressed the urge to vomit. Sweating with illness, he pulled his legs up to his chest and slid down onto his back, squealing from the pain in his arm. Resisting the urge to scream again, he looped his arms under and over his feet.

He collapsed onto his side sobbing from the sheer pain of the process. He'd gotten his arms out from behind his back, but it put so much strain on his shoulder, he was reduced to tears.

Francis pounded once on the door. "Stop making so much noise!"

Trying to pull attention away from himself, he silenced his sobs, still crying, but not making any noise. 

"Che. Stupid Kids. Never learn..."

Throughout the rest of the evening, he heard her walking throughout the cabin. More than likely, she had already treated herself to three glasses of brandy, and he could smell the scent of Opium wafting through the cabin space. Sneering, Quatre struggled harder to free himself, fueled by the anger he was feeling just sitting there, hearing her enjoy some victory. Quatre ironically grinned as he thought of how well she must have planned this out. Acting chummy with him, introducing him around, playing the Guardian. All probably an elaborate plan. He felt almost flattered, she'd payed this much attention to him instead of just tossing him off the boat.

"You may be a genius, but you're a bitch." Quatre thought before giving up altogether and collapsing to the floor, surrendering to his pain and exhaustion.

* * *

Duo answered the knock on the door, cigarette in mouth, searching his pants for a lighter.

"Yeah, yeah, what do you....want?"

A young Chinese boy stood in the doorway, hands held behind his back, poised patiently behind the door.

"Oy, whatdya want?" Duo asked, pulling a button-up white shirt over his bare chest.

"Trowa Barton is your cabin-mate, is this correct?" the Asian boy asked.

"Yeah," Duo said with a nod, words slurred from the cigarette in his mouth.

"And you are friends with him, is this correct?" he asked.

Duo nodded. "I guess. He wasn't so bad a guy."

"Mr. Treize Kushrenada would like a word with you then."

"Trays Koosh-re-na-dah?" Duo repeated questionatively, raising a brow. "Am I supposed to know who that is."

"No. But I'm sure he'd be pleased to meet you nonetheless."

Duo eyed the Asian boy from his feet to his head, where he peered around to view his little ponytail. "And you would be...?"

"Chang Wufei," he stated. "You may just call me Wufei."

"Woo-Faye," Duo repeated, trying the name out on his tongue. "Interesting name."

"Yours as well, Duo." the one named Wufei said, staring at Duo with a straight face.

"Hey, how'd you know my name was Duo?"

"Lucky guess."

Duo sagged his shoulders and muttered something before retreating to his bed to fetch his jacket.

* * *

"Wait here," Wufei said, retreatreating out of the room and stepping into another, closing the doors behind him.

Duo surveyed the new surroundings. "Very plush," he said, pacing along the walls, looking at the paintings on the walls and shining objects placed on desks and other surfaces around the room. One object in particular caught his eye, standing in the corner, underneath a lamp. Striding over to it, Duo leaned over, his long braid falling over his shoulder. The object was a black panther with golden eyes. But what really caught Duo's eye was the golden cross painted across the back of it.

"whoa...." Duo whispered, inspecting it closer.

"It is interesting isn't it?"

Duo jumped and put his hands behind his back. "I wasn't going to steal it, honest!" he said by instinct.

The man before him, chuckled slightly, his hand in front of his mouth. The man had short chestnut hair and forked eyebrows. His entire demeanor made him seem like royalty.

"Don't worry about it," the man said. "Please, have a seat."

Feeling a bit awkward, Duo slinked over to the couch and sat down.

"Oooh, soft," Duo thought.

"If you haven't put two and two together already, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Treize Kushrenada."

"I'd figured as much," Duo said with a nod, resting his arm on the back of the couch. "So, what do you want with me?" Duo leaned over and eyed Treize. "Moreso, what do you want with Trowa."

Treize grinned. "You're not one to beat around the bush are you?" he stated.

Duo shrugged at the question.

Wufei then entered the room with a tray; two cups of tea and a kettle placed atop a silver platter. Placing it down on the table, he handed a small tea cup to Treize and the other to Duo.

"Thanks Wufei," Duo said with a smile.

Half-smiling, Wufei bowed politely.

Duo took a sip of the tea swiftly. "Mm, that's good."

Treize smiled. "It's Irish tea."

Duo grinned even wider. Chuckling, Treize took a sip of his own tea and placed it onto the table. He then crossed his legs and placing his hands on his knees, he got right down to business.

"You must know that your friend has been suffered a terrible injustice."

Duo blinked twice before putting down his tea cup. "Yeah, I know," he said, his face becoming serious and stern. "I knew it when I saw them draggin' him down the hallway."

"I think I know what has happened. It seems that Mrs. Winner has decided to snuff out the life of the young master Quatre and pinned the death upon the unfortunate Mr. Barton."

"Is Quatre a little blonde boy?" Duo asked, remembering something from earlier in the evening.

Treize nodded.

"Yeah, I saw him earlier. His aunty seemed to be handlin' him rough."

Treized nodded again. "I beleive that we may be able to prove that Trowa is not the guilty party. But you must understand that the risks could be great."

Duo eyed him suspicously. "You'd do it yourself, but...?"

"You know more than you let on. Very well Duo, I will be frank. I need a scapegoat in case anything goes wrong. A man in my position can't be comprimised. I would change society's rules if I could...," he paused for a moment, relfecting on that peice. "but I can't."

There was a moments pause as the two looked at each other. After an unsure silence, Duo let himself grin.

"I'm happy to be of service."


	5. chapter 5

Unbreakable

* * *

April 14, 1912: 3:00 AM

* * *

"Sleeping," thought Quatre. "She's sleeping. Oh god, I hope she's sleeping."

Quatre hurriedly fumbled with the knots tied tightly and complex on his wrists, struggling through the pain and tears with what would have been otherwise a simple task. Every noise he heard made him flinch violently and paranoia grabbed his spine like some nightmare fist. Everything was coming to head in Quatre's life, all things terrifying and bad were reaching out to get him and Quatre could do nothing about it. Fate wanted to torture him it seemed. 

Trying to keep his mind off the subject of the monsters surrounding him, he pushed away the dreary thoughts and concentrated on one thing: Trowa.

"I don't know why I feel this way," he thought, "But if it can get me through this, I'd spend eternity thinking of him."

Smiling as he thought of Trowa, Quatre finally loosened the final knot at his feet and stood up, able to stretch for the first time in hours. Immediately he pulled the gag from his mouth, being able to rest his jaw for the first time in hours.

After a few minutes of massaging his jaw, he immediately began tugging away at the knots on his wrists with his teeth, keeping his mind on survival. A floorboard creaked and Quatre jumped, stepping away from the door. After several moments of silence, he sighed and began tugging away again. 

"Stop it, she's asleep. She's not going to get you right now..."

The closet door flew open and before Quatre knew what was happening, he was tugged from the closet roughly and slammed up against the wall. He screamed out as his shoulder made another sickening sound. 

"Wow, I'm really surprised. You managed to get out of the ropes. I'm pretty good with those. Maybe you're not as pathetic as I thought," spat the old woman, before slapping Quatre across the face, causing Quatre to yell out.

"Or maybe you are. Oh well, doesn't matter now..." She bent over and grabbed the gag, and then stuffing it into Quatre's mouth firmly. Coughing, Quatre instinctively reached for the gag, but Francis grabbed his wrists and began dragging him out into the hallway.

* * *

Trowa was asleep on the cot. Barely. It wouldn't have taken a lot to have woken him up at this point as his arm was handcuffed to the pipe above his cot, causing the blood to drain out of his hand and create a tingling feeling in his fingertips. Then there was the constant snoring of the guard sitting outside the door, and the second guard systematically tapping on the wall with his night-stick. But Trowa managed to block out the noises of the people around him and shut his mind off. But any little disturbance would wake him up. Like the two crashing then thumping sounds that were right outside the door.

Trowa sat right up, eyeing the door. The hallway outside it had gone silent, the guards fallen on top of each other, unconscious.

A figure stepped into the room softly, his feet almost making no sound. He was an Asian boy, no older than Trowa himself, with his hair slicked back into a tiny, tight ponytail. He wore what almost looked like pajama's, perfectly white. 

"Trowa Barton, I would presume," the boy asked.

Trowa nodded.

"Wufei Chang. It's an honor. Let me help you with that," he said deadpanned, pointing to the handcuffs that suspended Trowa from the pipe.

"Much appreciated," Trowa said, deadpanned as well.

Wufei walked over and unlocked the handcuffs with the keys he took off of the unconscious guards. Finally free of it, Trowa rubbed his red wrists, though he couldn't feel his hand doing so because it was asleep.

"Let us hurry, we have very litle time," Wufei stated.

Trowa nodded and stood up, following the young boy out of the room.

* * *

"Don't bother kicking and screaming," Francis said as she led Quatre out of the hallway into the brutally cold ocean air. "Honestly, it'll be over quicker than you think. Especially if you let the water fill your lungs."

Quatre gasped and his eyes grew wide with fear, and tried to tug the other way, but Francis pulled on his arm, jerking him foroward.

"Don't run little rabbit," she snapped, pulling him foroward even more, all but throwing him down a flight of stairs to the third class deck.

Faster than Quatre could process, they were already at the back of the boat. Quatre looked down at the white foam produced from the propellers and saw in them his own death. He imagined himself in the water below and remembered what Trowa had told him. He didn't want his skin shredded. That was the last thing he wanted.

Quatre started kicking a squirming, trying to tear himself away from his aunts grip, but to his dismay, she was stronger. Stronger than a woman probably should be, but the fact remained. With another bone-cracking twist of his shoulder he was pressed against the railing, feeling his ribs grate against the metal railing.

"Stop right there!"

Qautre and Francis both spun their heads around as a voice broke the air. Quatre felt his heart jump into his throat and his eyes got wide and misty.

"Trowa!"

Trowa held a gun in his left hand, pointed at Francis.

Wufei stood next to Trowa with a pistol held at his side. "If you value your life, and I'm sure you do, please release the boy," Wufei stated.

Francis scowled as she felt defeat begin to creep up to grab her by the throat. But with the kind of woman she was, she was not about to allow such insolent brats to be the end of her.

Francis grabbed Quatre by the neck and held him over the railing. "Tro...wa..." Quatre forced out, his airway being blocked by the forcive hand of his aunt.

"Now, the way I see it," Francis began. "I am the one holding the right cards. How about you hand those guns over to me and I might let the kid live..."

"I'm afraid that's not an option," Trowa replied.

Suddenly, a crack broke the air of the quiet night, echoing in the darkness before everything going silent. The waves against the ship didn't even register. Qautre reached up to his face after a moment of silence and felt the new presence on his face. He pulled his hand back and spied the liquid there. Crimson red and it smelled of the very essense of life. Slowly he turned to his aunt. She was shivering in fear and shock. Suddenly, he was set free, her vice grip unable to hold him anymore. He fell to the floor and scooted back away from her, moving towards Trowa.

Francis looked down at her nightgown. Where there would normally be white, dark red stained her chest. She looked at the giant stain unbeleiving. You couldn't tell if she were in pain or not. It might just not be registering yet, but she was shocked, that much was for sure. 

Then the only sound heard was her falling to her knees and collapsing with a thunk, barely inches away from where Quatre lay. 

Quatre stared down at Francis' dead body. It was still so quiet. And Quatre screamed...

* * *

Trowa sat by and watched as Quatre lay sleeping on his bed, waiting for the other to awake again. When he passed out after screaming like a rabbit, he'd finally collapsed in Trowa's arms, out of exhaustion. While he was unconscious, a doctor had tended to his arm. It wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed, though it would take a few days for the swelling to go down. Trowa gingerly brushed Quatre's hair out of his face. Trowa couldn't help but feel a yearning deep inside of himself to take care of this boy. This boy who had been through so much and had lost so many at such a young age.

He couldn't help it. He sat up and leaned over the sleeping boy, bending over his face and stealing a kiss.

"Don't worry anymore," Trowa whispered to the sleeping Quatre, "You won't have to worry ever again. I'm here now."

Quatre stirred in his sleep, unconsciously chattering the approval of Trowa's words.

* * *

Quatre opened his eyes as the morning broke into the windows, scratching at Quatre's eyes to wake up, wake up now. He tried to sit up in bed, but found there was a weight on his arm. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the morning, he turned at looked at the figure next to him.

Quatre gasped and felt his eyes swell with tears. "Trowa!" he excitedly yelled.

Trowa was awakened by his name being called. He looked up, feeling groggy, his back sore from sleeping perched over his sleeping angel. The one he would protect.

"Trowa? You're okay!" Quatre almost squealed with excitement.

Trowa cracked a small smile out of the right side of his mouth, something he did not do often. "It wasn't me that needed worrying over."

With the sudden realization of what had happened the night earlier Quatre slumped back onto his pillow. "Oh god, Trowa. What happened to her?"

"I'm sorry Quatre. She was going to hurt you. I had to."

Quatre squeezed his eyes shut. "No... It can't be. She was all I had left. I didn't like her, but she was family."

Trowa slipped his hand into Quatre's. "Do you think..."

Quatre looked down at where Trowa was holding him. "Yes?" Quatre said inquisitively.

"Do you think...I could be your family now?"

Quatre felt the organ in his chest swell up. What was he going to do? He felt the urge to grab this boy and hold him close, whisper that he was all he wanted in a family. But could he? He was so confused, the memories of the past few weeks bearing down on him with the force of a stone.

Trowa broke another smile as he was the fretful look in the other boys eyes. "It's okay Quatre. I can wait for your answer."

Quatre shook his head. "No. I have my answer. I don't know how..." Quatre shut his eyes again. He had never felt like this before. It seemed wrong, but more of him was saying 'who cares?'. "I don't know how to say it to you."

Trowa leaned over the boy in the bed, appearing almost animalistic. "Do not tell me then. Show me Quatre. Show me now what you feel. And don't hold back."

"Okay..." Quatre whispered smally, sitting up, minding his shoulder. He took one look at Trowa's eyes and he knew how he felt. There was no confusion, just the two of them. He leaned in towards Trowa's waiting lips and kissed them gingerly, feeling the pressure being returned to him gladly.

Quatre pulled back and looked into Trowa's eyes again, those eyes that he knew now he loved so much.

"See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Trowa said.

Quatre smiled widely before pulling Trowa back onto him with his good arm, smothering the boy with slow, intimate kisses.

"Quatre, I..." Trowa began between kisses. "I've never had the privelage of feeling this with anybody."

"Neither have I," replied Quatre before applying more kisses to Trowa's ready lips.

"I've been waiting so long for someone to call home. I'm so glad...it's you."

* * *

"So, Duo! You gotta spend some time up in first class, ne?"

"Yeah!" said Duo. "And all I had to do was tell a little bit of a truth!"

"Must have been like pulling steel needles through ya teeth!"

Duo threw his dirty shirt at his friend before picking up his clean one and buttoning it up.

"Where you off to now?" Duo's friend asked.

"Just got a little appointment to keep. See you suckers later," Duo yelled as he left the cabin.

* * *

"This is yours to keep."

Treize held out the statue Duo had been admiring the night before, the large black cat with a golden cross across it's back.

Duo stared at it in awe. "Wait... you're giving this to me?"

"It's what I said, isn't it? It was yours the moment you laid your eyes on it."

Almost expecting to get his hand slapped with a ruler or a whip, he slowly reached up and took the smallish statue out of Trieze's hands. 

"Thank...thank you so very much," Duo said.

Treize nodded. "No need to thank me. This is my thanks for helping me bring that terrible woman to justice."

"It's too bad she had to die," Duo said solemnly.

"From where I was standing, that was the only way she could be stopped. She's got quite the criminal record. It's just that the police don't know about it yet."

Duo harumphed. "It's amazing what people will do for money."

Treize grinned. "Yes, I've had some people go to extreme measures to get their hands on the smallest chunk of gold. I'm very lucky there are people like you around, that try to earn what they keep."

"Thanks!" Duo said, reveling in the compliment. "Well, I'd better be off. Don't want to keep the party waiting for me."

Treize looked at Duo slightly sideways. "Party? Why, it's not even noon."

"Eh, well, there's no harm in starting before everyone else. The early bird catches the worm, as they say!"

Treize chuckled. "Thank you again, Duo."

* * *

"Oh, no, Trowa," Quatre whispered as he felt the fasten of his pant loosen.

"Am I going too fast for you?" Trowa asked before continuing.

"I don't know...maybe...I can't think."

Trowa pulled his hand up to Quatre's face and brushed aside the bangs clinging to Quatre's forehead from the sweat. "It's okay."

"Let's just lay here for a while," Quatre suggested, rolling over to his side. Trowa cradled his head on Quatre's shoulder and held the two of them close together, enjoying the feel of Quatre's skin against his own chest.

"This is nice," Trowa said sincerely, kissing Quatre's cheek, causing Quatre to smile.

"Trowa? What will happen after this? Where will I go?" Quatre asked, clutching at Trowa's back.

"I don't know," Trowa replied. "Too bad we can't stay in this room forever."

"I know," Quatre said, smiling again. "I think that would be heaven for me." Quatre sighed once more. "But the reality is, we can't."

Trowa nodded solemly. "That's very true. But whatever way we can stay together, let's try. You're worth it."

Quatre craned his neck back and kissed Trowa once again, cradling the other boys face with his hand. "So are you."


	6. chapter 6

Unbreakable

* * *

April 14th, 3:00 PM

* * *

"Well, if we just woke up, wouldn't it be breakfast?"

"No, it's the afternoon, if anything it would be lunch. Or a snack maybe."

"But, it is breakfast food. Pancakes count as breakfast..."

Trowa picked up the syrup and poured it for Quatre who kept rambling on about the food that had been prepared for him.

"...I don't know how long you've been up, but I just woke up and I didn't eat before this, so I think..."

Trowa reached over to the rambling Quatre and pulled his chin up so he could look him in the eye. "It's not important. Eat."

Quatre felt himself fluster as he nodded and turned to his plate. Almost animalistically, he began to shovel food into his mouth. After he's cleared his mouth, he commented: "This is very good Trowa, thank you."

Trowa sat down and began serving himself. "Your very welcome."

Quatre smiled to himself and he drank almost half the glass of milk in one swig to clear his mouth for the food that would be coming soon again. Then he glanced over to Trowa who was eyeing him suspiciously. Quatre blinked twice. "What?"

Trowa cocked his head to the side and raised his brow. "I thought you were raised in a rich and well-bred family."

Quatre smiled. "When I'm relaxed, I forget my table manners."

Trowa smiled back. "You don't have to use them in front of me. I just never met anyone with such a healthy appetite before."

"Well, I haven't really eaten since..." Quatre dropped his glance, and ultimately his smile, and looked to the floor.

Trowa's eyes smiled at the young boy. "It's okay. You couldn't be expected to have an appetite after what she..."

"Let's not talk about this anymore," Quatre asked quietly as he cut Trowa off, keeping his eyes averted to the floor.

* * *

Treize stared at the elf-like figure in his doorway as though it had grown a second head. Duo came knocking at the Kushrenada's suite, apparently urgently and impatiently requesting audience with Treize. "It's okay if that Chang man is there too," he approved. Treize had come right away, expecting everything but perhaps this.

"Weeeelll...?" Duo oozed with all sorts of excitement.

Treize sighed and smiled at himself. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. He pinched between his brow and nodded a few times before verbally replying. "Yes."

Duo slammed his hands together in his excitement and grinned widely. "Yes!" he exclaimed before he noticed how much that slap between his hands hurt and winced. "ow..."

Treize put his fist before his mouth as he chuckled. "How am I supposed to remain unrecognized?"

Duo cracked his knuckles. "I can help with that."

Treized nodded. "Wufei will come with me," he stated in a half question, half order manner that few people could pull off.

"Sure, why not? The both of ya get to play dress-up for the night."

Wufei raised his brow a bit and Duo noticed he was not approving, but Wufei didn't voice any objections. Duo almost giggled at the sight of him.

"Okay you two, go on and sneak down to my room, say, half an hour after dark. We'll take it from there."

Treize nodded, still chuckling. "I'll see you then."

* * *

Trowa stared oddly at Duo.

"A party?" he said.

Duo nodded. "I swear, everyone who's everyone is coming. I even convinced that Kushrenada fellow to come! He's going to dress down and party with the best of them!"

Trowa raised his brow. He's only met Treize Kushrenada once when he was filing a report with security. A below-deck party was something Trowa couldn't imagine somebody as regal as Treize attending.

Then again, with Duo, anything was possible.

"I shouldn't. Neither should Quatre. He's in no state to go to a party."

"I wanna go!" Quatre yelled from the other room.

Trowa then regretting having left the bedroom door open.

Duo ran past Trowa and pointed into the bedroom. "See, he thinks it's a good idea, and he's the screwed up one!"

"Duo!" Quatre exclaimed with a giggle.

Duo gave his best puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeze Trowa!?"

"Pretty please!?" Quatre yelled from inside the room.

Trowa sighed. "I do not think this is a good idea. Yes. If it'll make Quatre happy."

"It does!" Quatre confirmed.

Trowa suppressed the urge to giggle. His arm was broken and he almost died, but he wanted to party! Trowa never knew what to expect.

Duo patted Trowa on the chest."Good man! Our room, one hour after dark, okay?"

"I'll be there," Trowa confirmed.

Duo left and Trowa contemplated not going at all. Quatre was in no shape to be doing anything, but he was so intent on going. Even now, he was babbling about how he'd never been to a real party before, and he wanted to meet all the nice people. However, Trowa would do anything to keep Quatre happy. He didn't like the way his newfound lover was acting when he tried talking to him seriously. With a sigh, Trowa walked into Quatre's bedroom.

Quatre was sitting there as happy as could be, holding his blanket up to his chest and smiling. "Thank you so much Trowa. I don't think I can stand another minute being cooped up like this!" He then giggled musically, his laughter filling the room.

* * *

April 14th, 7:00 PM

* * *

Quatre gaped with his mouth wide open as he stared at the figure inside Duo's room. He was tall, with Auburn hair, and held himself with a regal pride. With how regal he looked though, he was dressed as a pauper and one that wouldn't have two cents in his pocket. It was Treize Kushrenada.

"But...but...but..."

"I said Treize was coming, didn't I?" Duo answered for Treize. "I never said it was like any party you'd ever been to."

Quatre nodded, still gaping. "I just never though..." Quatre smiled. "I forgot my manners, I'm sorry Mr. Kushrenada."

Treize waved his hand in front of his face. "It's quite alright. I reacted in the same manner as you when I saw myself in the mirror. Though I must say, I'm rather comfortable in these clothes. I might make it a habit to wear them when I'm not around people."

Quatre craned around to peer at Wufei. He was still wearing what he always did, only this time it was a black pair of pajama's and he wore a long coat and a hat. He looked forward, and if he was uncomfortable, he held it inside.

Quatre waved at Wufei smally before turning back to Treize. "Why are you going, Mr. Kushrenada?"

"I suppose...because I've never been."

Quatre nodded. "Me too."

Duo pointed to Trowa. "Take off that officers hat and coat, and you'll be fine."

Quatre held his jacket up. "I'm dressed normal right?"

Duo nodded. "You're good." Quatre smiled, rather pleased with himself. 

Trowa peeled off his officer's hat and jacket and tossed them on his own bunk. 

"Let's go!" Duo squealed.

* * *

She sat in her large chair, stroking the dolls hair. It had a china face and seemed to stare out into some unseen world that humans couldn't see, no matter how hard they looked. The doll's silky black hair was adjusted and brushed and smoothed out by small hands that were expertly arranging the hair. 

"Are you sure you've seen that?" a voice said behind the girl and the doll. This voice belonged to a boy the same age as the girl, but who has already in mind matured into a man.

The girl in the chair nodded. "I saw it in my dreams. We will all die here."

The boy nodded. "That's fine with me. I am ready to die."

"No, you will not die," she said. "Neither will I. And it will be at the price of blood."

The boy went silent.

"Do not be afraid, Heero." The girl then ripped off the doll head in a strength that was not a young girls.

"I said I was not afraid."

"But that's what you always say, my love."

"Relena." Heero scolded. He did not like her stating terms of endearment.

She giggled again, her laugh seeming to be that of a monster's.

"Goodbye Titanic. You truly were the ship of dreams."

* * *

April 14th, 10:00 PM

* * *

The night was full of revelry of the best kind. The band played a jolly Irish jig as people danced, stomping their feet musically in a quick-paced dance that filled every inch of the room with noise. Those sitting clapped their hands to the beat, adding to the festivity even as passive onlookers.

Duo picked up the mug of ale and downed it in one quick swig.

"Oh my god!" Quatre exclaimed. "Duo, is that healthy?"

Duo slammed the mug on the table. "Who cares? It gets me pissed quicker!" Sure enough, Duo had gone red across the face and seemed to be even more loud and obnoxious than usual.

Quatre eyed the mug in front of him. He'd been taught that drinking wasn't okay unless you were older and it had to be fine drinks, like brandy and wine. The entire experience made for a waivery Quatre. But that life was not going to be his life anymore, he had decided this when he fell in love. This beer thing couldn't be so bad anyway, could it?

"Okay, here I go..." Wearily, he picked up the mug and took several gulps. "Ugh!" he said, putting the mug down. "That's terrible!"

The whole table laughed and Quatre got a few pats on the back.

Wufei, who was standing behind Treize, felt a little tug on his pant leg. Wufei looked down to see a little girl holding a rag doll. He kneeled down to face the girl.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"You look like a doll," the girl said. 

"I do?"

"Yes. You're very beautiful."

Wufei at first looked shocked but then a small part of his lips curved up in a smirk.

"That's very kind of you," he said, standing up again.

He found his pant leg being tugged on again. Sighing, he dipped onto one knee again. "Yes?"

"Can I dance with you?" the little girl asked.

Wufei looked shocked again. "I can't, I..."

Wufei felt Treize tap his shoulder. 

"Wufei, dance with the girl."

Wufei stared at the older man, seeming to be puzzled. Then he nodded in compliance. "Yes sir."

He turned to the girl who was now smiling and hugging her doll.

"Oh, and Wufei...?" Treize began.

Treize smiled warmly. "Do have a good time."

Wufei actually chucked as he turned and followed the little girl to the dance floor. She was practically dragging him to the center of the room and simply spun around and bounced while Wufei tried to keep up.

Treize sat and talked with Quatre and the other members of the table about very small things, things one wouldn't think Treize Kushrenada would be good at talking about; work, children, family and small politics. The evening passed and Quatre, unconsciously, kept getting more and more ale as the night progressed, simply sipping it as though it were a cup of tea.

Quatre giggled a bit then suddenly felt very brave. Perhaps it was an after affect of the ale. Or maybe he was just being Quatre.

"I wanna dance!" he exclaimed.

The table roared in laughter again at the obviously drunken Quatre.

"I serious!" Quatre said, beginning to slur his words. "Trowa! Le's dance! I wanna see you dance!"

Trowa smirked a bit while the table pointed and laughed drunkenly at Trowa. They shoved him up and towards Quatre, who then grabbed Trowa's arm and dragged him to the dancing platform. 

"Quatre, I really don't think..." Trowa began.

"Shh, Trowa, be quiet," Quatre demanded as he took Trowa's hand and faced him, standing straight. "I never jigg'd before, and I need you here so I don' fall down an' hurt mah arm."

Trowa smiled and nodded as he held Quatre's hand to balance him. Quatre looked around him at all the people dancing the same jig and copied them. Although he was intoxicated, he wasn't that intoxicated and managed to find good footing and tapped his feet along with the music well.

"Trowa, I can do it!" he squealed.

Quatre squealed loudly and spun and spun as the music pounded faster and faster. He spun so fast he didn't notice which way he was going and he fell straight into Trowa. As Trowa dragged him up, Quatre giggled and blushed. "Tha' was reeeal clumsy, wasn't it?"

Trowa laughed. "Yes, it was."

Quatre winced. He'd fallen onto Trowa, putting a lot of weight on his broken arm. 

"Oh damn. Are you alright?" Trowa asked.

"Ow," was all Quatre could say.

"Come on, we gotta sit down," Trowa urged.

Quatre just nodded, obviously going through a mood swing. He slumped against Trowa and put his head in the other boys chest. Trowa just smirked and gingerly stroked the other's hair and guided him to a small table in the corner.

Trowa propped Quatre on his lap and tugged on his clothes as though he were tending to a small child. After a small silence, Trowa barely made it out, but he heard Quatre whisper: "I'm sorry."

Trowa bowed his head down to listen more closely to Quatre. "Sorry for what?"

"I ruined your evening. I ruin everything."

Trowa stroked Quatre's hair some more. "No, it's okay. We can dance any time."

Quatre balled his hands into a fist. "No, I ruin everything. I'm so sorry."

"Quatre, you've had too much to drink. Let's go outside."

Quatre just nodded and stood with Trowa to walk outside, his head still hanging low.

"What's up with him?" Duo asked, pointing to Quatre as he watched him and Trowa leave.

"Stress," Treize offered, elegantly sipping at his own ale.

Duo shrugged and collapsed back into a chair, almost falling over as he did so. "So, Treize," Duo began, but then took another drink of ale. After he set the cup down, he continued. "You've never been to one of the 'normal' parties before?"

Treize shook his head.

"wow. You're acting like you know everybody and you're waaaay nice."

"I have a way with people," Treize offered.

"'Way With People'...I gotta try that."

Wufei came stumbling back. He looked as though he'd been running around in circles all night. Which in all fairness is what he had been doing, to keep up with the little girl he now knew to be little Sally Po.

"Welcome back!" Duo screamed, flailing several limbs.

"Yes..." Wufei said before taking up a seat and resting. 

Duo nudged Wufei in the shoulder. "That Sally, she's a tough one to get off ya. How'd you manage?"

Wufei shrugged. "I guess she tired herself out."

"That doesn't happen very often," Duo said.

"There was one condition though," Wufei said in a regrettable tone.

"Eh?" Duo asked.

"I have to see her again, on our wedding day," he said, smiling widely.

Duo fell back in variable howls of laughter.

* * *

April 15th, 2:13 AM

* * *

"Do you feel better?" Trowa asked Quatre as they stood at the edge of the boat, Trowa gently stroking Quatre's back to relax him. Quatre only nodded, not wishing to disturb Trowa's evening more.

"You know, I wasn't upset. It was my fault more than yours. I should have been watching over you more closely. That dance was way out of..."

"No," Quatre interrupted. "Everybody makes excuses for me."

"It's not an excuse. It was just an accident Quatre."

"I'm rather accident prone don't you think?" Quatre said forcefully.

Trowa was taken aback at Quatre's tone, almost expecting Quatre to start frothing at the mouth. "Quatre... It wasn't that big of a deal, honestly..."

"Please don't touch me," Quatre said, his body stiffening up against Trowa's.

Doing as he was told, he wordlessly unwrapped his body from Quatre's after taking a pause to try to understand why, or to see if Quatre was serious. Quatre instinctively shivered and wrapped his own arms around himself, trying to compensate for the lost warmth. "I just..." Quatre began. "I just don't feel like being touched. Everything I touch just..." Quatre hung his head lower to subside the hidden shame and clung even harder to his shoulder.

"Nothing was your fault here Quatre," Trowa offered before going silent again.

The two of them shared another agonizing silence. They stood in the freezing cold ocean air, seemingly unbothered by it. Quatre was actively searching his feelings, each emotion contorting on his face as he bit into the tips of his fingernails, while Trowa was unreadable as the first day he came aboard the ship with nothing but himself and his uniform.

Quatre began walking down the deck slowly, only faintly hearing Trowa take a few steps towards him every now and then to keep an eye out for him. He didn't mind Trowa being nearby, but if Trowa was too close to him now, Quatre could go in any direction. Right now, he had to sort out his own feelings. The best thing, Trowa knew, was for the effects of the alcohol to work it's way out of Quatre's system. Then he could be reasoned with. Then he could be thinking straight.

Then the thought occurred to Trowa that perhaps it wasn't the alcohol at all. Terrified, Trowa wrapped his own arms around himself, trying to comfort himself when he knew later he would have to be the strong one.

Quatre was sick. Mentally ill in some way or another. Trowa didn't know psychiatry, but the shock of watching all your family die within a month of each other must be the most terrible thing for a young boy to experience. And whatever torment he was feeling, he hated to show it, hated to disrupt the happiness of the people around him. Or at least that was what Trowa could gather.

A party definitely had been a bad idea.

Ignoring logic, Trowa strode up to Quatre. When Quatre heard him pacing quickly towards him, Quatre pulled his legs into his chest and buried his face in his knees. But seconds after he'd done this protective gesture, he found himself being pulled up by his waist.

"Hey - Trowa - let go!" Quatre violently outburst. He pounded his good arm into Trowa's arm ineffectively.

Quatre's words were muffled as Trowa roughly pressed his mouth against Quatre's. Quatre at first fought back, but the kiss somehow seemed to have tamed him, so Quatre stopped kicking and screaming, but did not however, kiss back.

Trowa pulled back to look at Quatre in the eyes. "I love you. You know that."

Quatre nodded, still seeming to be angry.

"Whatever you're feeling, I don't care how much you think I won't want to hear about it, I never ever want you to feel like you can't talk to me."

Quatre seemed somewhat befuddled, so Trowa elaborated.

"Nothing you tell me could make me love you less. Everything about you is wonderful, even your darker emotions. Just because they're yours, they are that much less dark because it's you. Just talk to me whenever about whatever. Please?"

Quatre's face cleared as he understood what Trowa was saying. "I'm sorry."

"No more apologies."

Quatre nodded.

The two of them slid their lips together and kissed as bells rang in the background. Even with Trowa's instincts as a soldier he blocked everything out that wasn't Quatre and just was at that moment.

Suddenly, the world around them was jarred and everything shook. Trowa and Quatre parted, but still clung to each other as they tried to keep their feet from going out underneath them. As the world stopped shaking, Trowa and Quatre looked around them to see what had happened. Chunks of ice littered the deck all around them, still skittering about as the boat balanced itself back with the water. But perhaps what was most impressive was the giant white iceberg that floated by, seemingly too quickly for it's size. One could still hear it scraping along the side of the boat before it disappeared completely, out of sight of the boat. Trowa and Quatre could only stare a moment in an imposing silence.

"Trowa?"

"Yes."

"I'm scared."


End file.
